“Give up your foolish dreams of flying,” said mother. When I swooped past the kitchen window on a sunny afternoon she didn’t notice. I had to do it more than once before I got her attention. “Stop it,” she said. “Idiotic girl, come down”. I squawked back and skimmed over her, snatching off her glasses as I went. Higher I flew, tumbling and turning. When the glasses shattered, I could see the colour of her anger from way up. There was no going back. So I joined a friendly flock of geese flying south.
FlashFlood is brought to you by National Flash-Fiction Day UK, happening this year on 27th June 2015.
In the build up to the day we have now launched our Micro-Fiction Competition (stories up to 100 words) and also our annual Anthology (stories up to 500 words). So if you have enjoyed FlashFlood, why not send us your stories?
I knew a man who owned 150 items. One hundred of them were books. He was extremely specific about this number. Two plates, two bowls, one pot, one pan. One squeeze bottle of liquid soap he used for the counters, the clothes, his remaining hair. One Bobby Goldsboro record, but no turntable. He said one of the songs, Honey, had always moved him.
When his dog passed away, he replaced it. A plant; why didn’t I say plant? Although it is true about his dog.
I had the idea he was spiritual and wise. He was old. His sparseness was a turn-on. And the red rug on the floor beside his bed, so pleasing. I pleased him when I knelt on it. His framed, black-inked Eye of Horus lent the place a tang of the mystic.
It lasted seven weeks. One evening, I thought I’d pitch in and empty the garbage. He was out, walking the replacement dog. The bag was surprisingly full. I clocked the contents: the detritus of fast food wolfed when I was at work, eight squishy condoms (curtsy), and much-thumbed porn mag feat…
Day 1: Beginnings and Endings
Welcome to the FlashFlood Advent Calendar! Today we bring you the first of twenty-five days of flashy prompts, so it's fitting that we're thinking about beginnings....
You know those amazing first lines, the ones that grab you by the throat and don't let go of you until you've read the rest of the story (and even then they linger)? Things like:
“The road is covered in ghost.”—Jane Monson, 'The Unmended',Speaking Without Tongues“Those who don't know any better come into our neighborhood scared.” —Sandra Cisneros, 'Those Who Don't', The House on Mango Street“Peony has whiskers; she has a pointy face and a tail made out of blue
raffia; she's messing about in boats and dabbling-up-tails-all, and I am
in love.” —C.G. Menon, 'Watermelon Seeds',Love Across A Broken Map: Short Stories from The Whole Kahani“To lift yourself out of a miserable mood, even if you have to do it by strength of will, should be eas…
Flash Flood is OPEN for submissions until Thursday 9 May 2019 at 23:59 BST (22:59 UTC)
The aim is simple: wherever you are in the world, we want your best
flash fictions. The word limit is 500 words, but that's the only rule.
Any subject, any genre, any style, any perspective, anything as long as
Our guidelines have changed this year, so please have a read over our submission guidelines before you send your work. If you'd like, you can also read about this year's editors.
We look forward to reading your words!